William Monk 04 - A Sudden Fearful Death by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online Page B

you, Mrs. Hylton,” Audley replied coolly. He turned to his sister-in-law. “What experience is this? I have heard nothing!” He was very pale, with two spots of color in his cheeks. His hands were clenched by his sides and his knuckles showed white from the pressure.
    “Oh dear!” Mrs. Hylton said hastily. “Perhaps I shouldnot have spoken of it. I’m so sorry. I hate indiscretion, and here I am committing it.”
    “What experience?” Audley demanded again, his voice catching. “Julia?”
    “Oh …” Julia was lost, foundering. She dared not turn to Monk, or Audley would know she had confided in him, if he did not guess already.
    “Only something in the bushes in the garden,” Monk said quickly. “Miss Gillespie feared it might be some tramp or stray person who was peeping. But I am sure Mrs. Hylton is correct and it was simply a cat. It can be startling, but no more. I am certain there is no danger, Miss Gillespie.”
    “No.” Marianne swallowed. “No, of course not. I fear I was foolish. I—I have been … hasty.”
    “If you sent Mr. Monk looking for a tramp you most certainly were,” Audley agreed testily, his breath harsh in his throat. “You should have mentioned it to me! To have troubled a guest was quite unnecessary and unfortunate.”
    “Miss Gillespie did not ask me,” Monk said defensively. “I was in the garden in her company at the time. It was the most natural thing in the world to offer to see if there were anyone trespassing.”
    Audley fell silent with the best grace he could muster, but it was less than comfortable.
    “I was afraid one of my children might have thrown a ball too far and came to retrieve it,” Mrs. Hylton said apologetically, looking from one to the other of them, curiosity alight in her face, and a taste for drama. “Most inconsiderate, I know, but children tend to be like that. I am sure you will find it so, when you have your own….”
    Audley’s face was white, his eyes glittering, but his hard glance was not directed at Mrs. Hylton, nor at Julia, but out the window into the trees. Julia’s cheeks were scarlet, but she too was mute.
    It was Marianne who spoke, her voice quivering with pain and indignation.
    “That may be so, Mrs. Hylton, but we do not all wish tohave the same patterns of life. And for some of us the choices are different. I am sure you have sufficient sensitivity to appreciate that….”
    Mrs. Hylton realized she had made an appalling blunder and blushed deeply, although from the confusion in her face, she still did not fully understand what it had been.
    “Yes,” she said hastily. “Of course. I see, yes. Naturally. Well, I am sure you have done the right thing, Mr. Monk. I—I just wished to—well—good day to you.” And she turned around and retreated in disorder.
    Monk had seen more than sufficient to confirm his fears. He would have to speak to Marianne alone, but he would not do it with Audley in the house. He would return tomorrow morning, when he could be almost certain he would find the women alone.
    “I don’t wish to intrude,” he said aloud, looking first at Julia, then at Audley. “If it is acceptable, ma’am, I shall call again in the near future to pick up your gift for Mr. Finnister?”
    “Oh. Thank you,” Julia accepted quickly, relief flooding her face. “That would be most kind.”
    Audley said nothing, and with a few more words, Monk excused himself and left, walking out rapidly into the heat of Hastings Street and the noise and clatter of passing carriages and the trouble of his thoughts.
    In the morning he stood in the summerhouse with Marianne. A dozen yards away there were birds singing in the lilac tree and a faint breeze blew a few fallen leaves across the grass. It was Rodwell’s day off.
    “I think I have made all the inquiries I can,” Monk began.
    “I cannot blame you if you can discover very little,” Marianne answered with a tiny smile. She was leaning against the window, the pale